Cruel World
by latinsimona
Summary: Little bits about the Gorillaz. Ranging T to M depending on the chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello welcome! This is my first Gorillaz story on this website I've been a fan of the band for the longest but I've just got the guts to start writing little snippets about them. I wrote this entire thing in less than like 5 hours and I barely read back over it so please don't be too harsh ok. There is gonna be a few more one-shots where these come from and this is _implied_ 2DxMurdoc but you don't have to see it that way if you don't like. PS I don't know the specifics of court and trial and all that so ignore that bit in the beginning if its irks you but enjoy!~**

x

"You're sure this is the only way I can avoid jail time?" Murdoc questioned incredulously, staring hard at his lawyer through the thick plastic glass that separated them. The stout man nodded curtly, his chubby fingers rifling through the same manila folder he'd opened and closed about 15 times within the past few minutes. Murdoc found himself gritting his teeth at the repetitive action now, the man clearly uneasy around the Satanist.

"Believe me, Mr. Niccals, this works in favor with everyone. Stuart's parents were very kind to allow this. Had it not been for them, you could be facing 30, maybe 40 years in jail." the man replied, his shaky fingers readjusting the glasses that continuously slipped down his nose.

31-year-old Murdoc Niccals did not see this as a positive thing any way you put it. The blue haired idiot he'd hit was only going to be a burden to him; his parents were probably more than willing to ship the teenager off into the care of another when they found out about his comatose state. The Satanist was no longer allowed to refer to the injured male as a vegetable, after a firm reprimanding from his lawyer that that kind of language would not be participated in court. Releasing a sigh that carried the weight of all the burdens in the world, Murdoc slumped against the back of his metal chair, eyes closed as he tried to absorb all the information that'd been dumped on him.

"Well, fuck me in the ass."

x

Though Murdoc likes to tell people that caring for the vegetablized Stuart Pot was nothing short of the deepest pits of Hell, he also enjoys lying, it seems. Stuart was his doll, his little brain-dead play thing, with a drooling mouth, blackened eye, and endlessly stupefied expression.

He was also the perfect punching bag.

Having mistakenly flirted with his patients mother while she was working a shift in the hospital Stuart was trapped in, Murdoc ended up having a run in with both parents of the wonderful Stuart Pot. Besides Rachel's wonderously large breasts, the pair were nothing if not average in their looks, which was why Murdoc continuously wondered how they'd produced such an abstract child.

Murdoc was nothing if he wasn't appreciative of art, and boy, Stuart Tusspot was art. 6'2, electric blue hair, pretty boy looks with the stupidity to match, he was a sight for sore eyes. Whenever Murdoc found himself staring at the comatose boy for too long, wrapped up in his looks, he'd usually curse the other male under his breath and whack him upside the back of his head, always fascinated at the lack of reaction he received from his patient.

Stuart was not without faults and hiccups, even in his paralytic state. His mother had warned Murdoc that if he heard any excessive moaning and groaning, or displaying any signs of distress, to take notice that her precious baby boy had a migraine, and his were known to get quite intense at times. Every once in a while, Murdoc would hear loud whimpering coming from the couch in the living room of his apartment, only to discover Stuart covered in a shimmering layer of sweat with a visible tremor slightly rocking his frame. After being force-fed his pills, the young boy would usually slip into a dreamless sleep, but every once in a while, when his timing was particularly annoying for the older man, his one good eye would lazily roll in Murdoc's direction with a stare that looked like a sincere apology. This almost always freaked the Satanist out.

Nonetheless, Murdoc enjoyed his time with the comatose Stuart Pot. He was endlessly fascinated by the varying degrees of whimpers the younger male would let out, depending on the situation. When Murdoc was unleashing all the anger of his past, his present, and his future on the poor lad, Murdoc took notice that he rarely made noise. It was only small, choked off whimpers here and there, and they almost sounded apologetic, like _he _was the one who had something to be sorry for. Hell, the whines he gave off when he had a headache were louder than the ones he released when Murdoc was unleashing hell on him. Murdoc simply didn't understand, and never would understand, what kind of thoughts were knocking around in that dented cranium. When the Satanist was forced to carry him places (though it honestly was Murdoc's fault he had to do so, the older male had rammed Stuart into the wall one too many times and the wheelchair he'd been seated in finally fell apart), the comatose boy would whine rather pathetically, eyelids drooped almost in shame whenever his limp frame was tossed into the strong arms of his caretaker. It was all very strange, to the bassist. Very strange indeed.

Legend has it, the day Stuart went flying out of the front windshield of Murdoc's Vauxhall Astra was the day the last piece of the Satanists heart went flying out with him. Whenever the older man remembers it, he gets goose bumps all over his skin. It wasn't the first time he'd forgotten to strap the helpless boy in when he shoved him in the backseat, but this was clearly not every other car trip. Murdoc doesn't remember much about exactly what he saw the second Stuart flew through the windshield, but he does recall the _sound_.

"Like a bullet hitting a thick piece of wood," as Murdoc always describes it.

And then...panic.

Murdoc believes that was his first heart attack, then and there. Frozen in place, hands gripping the wheel tight enough to snap it, discolored eyes staring wide at the blood-splattered glass leading a trail to the limp body splayed out across the blacktop. Oddly enough, Murdoc's first thought was '_Stuart's mum is gonna have my balls on a cutting board._'

And then, like the miracle Stuart Pot was, movement. Subtle, but there. Murdoc shook his head wildly, believing himself to be seeing hallucinations as the 6'2 bloodied bluenette stood up. He _stood up_. With a back facing the car he'd recently been flung out of, his frame trembling heavily, large palms twitching at his sides, the boy slowly began to turn around in place as a rain came from seemingly nowhere, drenching him instantly. As he finally faced a still frozen Murdoc, chin hanging against his chest with a t-shirt ripped open and bloodied, he began to lift his head.

Murdoc lost his breath.

Those _eyes_. Pitch black, void of any and all emotion, _empty_. And also, quite bloody, along with the rest of Stuart's face, but beautiful none the less. That word put itself on repeat in Murdoc's head. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Stuart Pot. And grinning like the masochist he is, Murdoc let out a laugh evil enough to turn Holy Water black, his eyes trained on those of Stuart Pot's. His creation, his _masterpiece_, his very own Frankenstein! How many people could say they'd brought back life from the dead?! Then, like something straight out of a movie, Stuart opened, then closed, then opened his mouth once more, a thick river of blood draining from the opening, along with what looked like a tooth. The rain mixed with the thick substance, washing the poor boy clean, cleansing him, like a baby fresh out of the womb. Like Murdoc's baby, fresh out of his very own hands.

"I…." Stuart began, the noise barely audible to Murdoc over the pounding rain. Leaning forward in his seat like an excited kid in the movie theater, Murdoc was hanging onto every noise the bluenette released. "Alright." he finally finished, before none too gently collapsing in place, his eyelids drooping closed once more as his body went lax.

_No,_ Murdoc thought. _You are _not _allowed to die._

Clambering out of his car at an admirable speed, the Satanist wasted no time in scooping up the thin frame into his arms, the weight so familiar, yet now, so unsettling. He was too lax, too boneless in Murdoc's hold, and it scared the older man to no end.

_Please don't die. We've got so much left to do. _

Murdoc ended up driving them to the hospital in a beat up Vauxhall Astra with a missing windshield and trail of blood on the hood, going at speeds ridiculous enough to be in some sort of racing film. The Satanist had carried the unconscious Stuart Pot into the hospital with a crazed desperation on his features as he shoved the body at the nearest nurse.

"Don't let him die! I'll kill you all if he dies!" Murdoc had threatened, refrained only by the two security guards at the automatic doors of the hospital as he watched his precious creation wheeled away on a stretcher, frame just as limp as it was when Murdoc first picked him up.

Murdoc still remembers Rachel Pot's shrill screaming as she came rushing into the hospital, David hot on her heels, her large, pendulous breasts swinging wildly within the jacket she'd hastily zipped on after getting the call from the hospital. She was paused only in her pursuit to kill Murdoc Niccals when the doctor hastily stepped between them, informing her that her only son was, indeed, awake, and despite a few scratches and bruises, in stable condition. She'd immediately burst into tears, woman that she was, clinging to David and thanking God. As if _he _had anything to do with it, the old bastard in the sky. It was all Murdoc's doing, but he figured that that probably wasn't the best time to bring glorification to himself.

So when Murdoc finally was able to shoo Rachel and David out of Stuart's room to view him for himself, he felt his heart stop all over again. The boy, hooked up to various machines and slightly propped up in his angled bed, shot his black-eyed gaze over to Murdoc, his bruised and bandaged face breaking out into a goofy grin at the sight of the Satanist.

"'Ello, Murdoc!" the now 20-year-old Stuart Pot said brightly. "Mum's jus' finished tellin' me about ya, and I'd like ta thank ya for, well, resurrectin' me."

Well then.

x

The rest of it is, as they say, history. After stumbling in on one of Stuart's rehabilitation sessions, this one including a keyboard placed in the bluenette's lap, Murdoc knew he had his lead singer. After convincing Stuart's parents that the 20 year old would be alright in his care, and they could check on him whenever they'd like, Stuart willingly (and oddly happily) moved in with the bassist. The two hit it off immediately; Murdoc likes to remember these times. Before Russel, before Noodle, before fame, just two genuine mates making good music and having fun together.

All good things come to an end and bring on better things, though.

The dynamic of their relationship changed the more serious Murdoc began to get over their music, and when they moved to Kong in Essex after kidnapping Russel, it was clear that their friendship was no longer going to be an equal one. Stuart, submissive man that he is, took all the abuse, verbal and physical, that he received from Murdoc, determined to feel infinitely indebted to the older man for saving him and giving him a life-changing job.

Paula Cracker was the first genuine disruption in their relationship, and Murdoc will always resent her for it.

After getting caught fucking into the recently nicknamed 2D's girlfriend in the 3rd bathroom stall in Kong by none other than Russel, he knew the drummer would immediately report back to the scrawny bluenette. Which, he did. 2D locked himself in his room for days, the only hints of his existence being the soft sobs that echoed out from his room every now and then. It all came to a head on the 4th day of 2D's whining, when Murdoc finally burst the door open and stood, fuming, in his vocalists doorway.

"Get out, Murdoc!" 2D shouted, burying his head in his pillows as he tried to slow his sobs.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" Murdoc exploded, one hand still tightly gripping the shining handle of 2D's door. "She was just some stupid slag, git over it!"

"You get ova' it!" 2D screamed back, finally throwing the pillow away from his mouth, his frame turning to face Murdoc as he sat up in bed, face reddened and cheeks puffed with tear tracks. "I neva' wanna see yew again!"

"Oh, for the love of Satan, you're such a _girl_!" Murdoc accused, slapping one hand against his face as he tried to regulate his breathing. "She clearly didn't care about ya, so why do you care abo' her?"

"I loved her, Murdoc." 2D said, surprisingly quiet. "But yew wouldn' know anyfing abo' tat, cos no one's ever loved yew!"

The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. 2D, seemingly realizing what he'd just said, froze, the anger dropping from his face so quickly it was almost comical. Guilt flooded through him like a shot of heroin, his blood running cold as his trembling hands gripped his sheets. The apology he wanted to utter was right on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released, but the anger that still embedded itself within his heart over Murdoc's betrayal was sealing his lips shut.

"I should have never saved you," Murdoc began, voice scarily low and void of emotion as he glared at 2D with such utter hatred the younger male cowered back in fear. "Should 'ave ran you over after sendin' you through the windshield. You'd be more beneficial to the entire universe dead than you are, or ever were, alive."

The smack of 2D's door closing seemed to sever the last tie of friendship between the two bandmates, the sound echoing throughout the very bones of the young man. He sat in his bed, sat upright, his head absorbing every spiteful word that Murdoc had sent his way. The bluenette knew that the Satanist was right. He was good for nothing, he didn't matter to anyone or anything anymore. He was as good as dead.

So, that's what he tried to become.

Downing both full bottles of the headache pills his mother had recently sent his way and chasing them with a bottle of vodka, 2D lay in his bed, his tears an endless stream as they soaked the pillow beneath his wild blue hair. Then, like a gentle goodnight kiss from his mother when he was a boy, unconsciousness swept across and through him, lulling him into an eternal rest.

x

"_Idiot_."

Murdoc drags the limp body of 2D from his bed, his frame making a spine shuddering thunk with the ground as he hits it. The Satanist mumbles angrily, despite the fear resonating within his heart for 2D's safety, as he drags him hastily into the bathroom attached to 2D's room. The younger male's pale skin doesn't look right, it's pasty and unnatural and beginning to look a bit like it's covered in plastic wrap.

Murdoc panics further.

"If you die, I'll bring you back to life just to kill you all over again, you blubbering _imbecile_."

2D gives nothing in response, no twitch of his limbs, no soft whimper, none of the small things he used to do in his comatose state whenever Murdoc was speaking to him and he had no other way to indicate his attention to the other males words.

Finally, Murdoc reaches the bathtub, his feet hastily kicking off his nice (questionable) pair of Cuban heeled boots before he climbs in the tub, long sleeve shirt, jeans, inverted cross and all, tugging 2D in on top of his chest with all his might. The Satanist hears a loud _crack _where his head hits the back of the porcelain bowl as 2D finally falls limply against his chest, his boneless frame nestled motionlessly between the older males legs. The adrenaline pumping through his veins allows him to ignore the stars behind his eyes.

"Tusspot, if you don't wake up, I swear to _Satan_…"

Reaching around the unconscious vocalist, Murdoc twists impatiently at the faucet, the lukewarm water from the shower head raining down on the pair instantly as Murdoc's blood chills. It can't be too cold, he knows that, he knows that Stuart's body might not be able to handle the shock of the temperature, so he makes sure it's just enough to alarm him, for him to feel the water against his skin.

"Wake up, 2D, c'mon, c'mon." Murdoc pleads, arms hooked beneath 2D's armpits as one hand reaches up and into the vocalists mouth, his fingers digging deep in the saliva-filled cavern as he tries to trigger the other males gag reflex.

At first, nothing happens. Murdoc panics further.

"What the hell were you _thinking_?" Murdoc questions angrily, though his voice breaks on the final word as he shoves his fingers in further. Then, like an answered prayer, a jolt against his forearm. 2D's chest is heaving all of a sudden, and sticky bile comes driving its way up through his throat and all down Murdoc's fingers. Wild gasping resonates through the bathroom before 2D retches some more of the vile pills, Murdoc's hand encouraging him by rubbing his back as he leans forward to vomit.

"That's it, get it out, get it out." The Satanist says, relief flooding through him like a thousand suns. He notices his hands are shaking where they're touching 2D all over, smoothing his hair, rubbing his arms. Murdoc was genuinely terrified.

Then, 2D's crying, chest wracking sobs that break Murdoc's heart a little bit. After throwing up all that was polluting his system, 2D falls back against Murdoc's chest, his head turning to rest itself in the curve of the older mans neck as he wept. Murdoc, too numb to really feel any emotion but relief, weakly lifts a hand to rub over 2D's drenched back, his discolored eyes drifting closed as he did so.

"You're alright, Stu," Murdoc reassures him, his voice a low and comforting baritone in 2D's ears. "'s alright."

Murdoc's resurrected 2D in water twice now. He's beginning to dislike water.

x

Two and a half weeks later, Noodle arrives.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all once again! I cannot apologize enough for how long this took me to update. I had the next chapter written already when I published the first one, but I ended up scrapping the entire thing and the idea behind it because I was so unhappy with it. I took my time on this one to try and make it as enjoyable as possible. There will be two parts to this chapter, only because I have so many thoughts about what exactly went on in Jamaica while the Gorillaz were on vacation there and if I put all my ideas into this one chapter it'd be well over 6,000 words long. Thank you all for your kind reviews and continuous support, I truly cannot express how much I appreciate you all. If you'd like to keep track of me on tumblr, I go by the same name (latinsimona) on there as well. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>cac·o·e·thes;<br>** an irresistible urge to do something inadvisable.

* * *

><p>"Murdoc, be careful!"<p>

Instead of retorting with the slew of insults that hung on the tip of his tongue, Murdoc only rolled his eyes at the shill screaming emitting from his beloved singer. The bassist had been steadily climbing his way up a tree which, in hindsight, never really looked stable enough to hold him, but Murdoc's never been one to shy away from a bit of danger.

"For the last time, dullard, I can hold my own in this bloody tree. I'll be down in a minute, yeah? Hold your pretty horses." Murdoc assured him, discolored gaze squinting up at the bottle of rum a couple branches above his current spot. Only a few more feet, anyway. He could make it in his sleep.

Finally granted the silence he so desired, the only sound coming from the blue-haired singer down on the sand below him being the occasional whimper of fear, Murdoc allowed himself to relax a bit as he trudged up the winding beach tree. Hoisting one foot up precariously on the end of a branch (probably not a good idea) and reaching for the next one up (definitely not a good idea), Murdoc unknowingly grasped what appeared to be a slippery birds nest. Thinking nothing of it, Murdoc allowed all of his weight to be supported by this one limb, the very same limb that held on for dear life to the birds nest placed gently on the branch the bassist was grasping at. Then,

"Muds, look out!" The shrill scream came from his singer. The blue-haired male down in the sand noticed a rather large bird making its way down directly towards where Murdoc was grasping at the branch, showing no signs of slowing the speed he'd come swooping down at. The abrupt noise startled the bassist, causing his grip on the branch to loosen further.

"Wot the hell-" Murdoc had begun to conjure up a list of every curse word in the book to direct at singer for unknowingly scaring the very wits out of him, but before he could finish the accusation, he found his body falling backwards, his grip no longer solidified on the branch, but instead, wrapped tightly around a small birds nest. The bassist barely had time to scream before his back made a painful impact against the thick branch beneath him, hurtling his body further down the tree until he finally came to a sharp 'thunk' in the sand below.

x

"Gravity-y-y-y-y-yyy on me, never let me die, gently," 2D's soft vocals resonated throughout the small section of the island the Gorillaz were inhabiting. His perch on the roof helped to carry the sound all throughout the beach huts that each of the members resided in. "Gravity-y-y-y-y-yyy, with me, never let me go, no, no."

Lying awake in his own hut, body clad in nothing but an unbuttoned pair of denim jeans and the sweat-soaked fabric of his bedsheets, Murdoc allowed his cigarette to burn loosely between his lips, his gaze trained on the ceiling as he listened to the blue-haired male sing. And boy, was he singing.

Despite his generally abusive and demeaning attitude towards 2D, Murdoc truly admired him. Not only for surviving not one, not two, but three very serious head injuries (two straight from his own hands), but for his passion. It was no secret that 2D didn't understand much (three violent blows to the head tended to do that to a person), but one thing he always understood was music. No matter what, whether the song be for shits and giggles or something of true substance, 2D was always focused, always calculating how to make the sound better, where to add more guitar, where to lighten up on the drums a bit. Murdoc enjoyed watching 2D most when he was hunched over his keyboard, thick eyebrows drawn together in concentration with a forgotten cigarette burning between his lips as he conjured up what was always sure to be another piece of musical genius. It truly was a sight to see.

But what 2D's singing up on the roof, Murdoc's never heard before. He can only assume that sitting atop a hut in the middle of a Jamaican beach was what had inspired this particular tune, considering it's main focal point being gravity, the very thing tying 2D down to the roof instead of allowing him to drift away in the clouds as he so longed to do. 2D was alone up there, he knows. Everyone else had retired to their huts hours ago, ready to get some shut eye after a long, relaxing day on the beach. A part of Murdoc urges him to get up and go join the lonesome boy, but he refrains. He wants 2D to really think about this tune, without his influence. He wants to see what 2D's fractured head can come up with when he's alone with nothing but his lungs and the stars above him.

"I don't pull me down," 2D croons, his voice having dropped a bit after a particularly long pause. Murdoc can practically hear the gears turning in his head, his mind conjuring a rhythm to go along with the slow tune. "I don't pull me down on me."

Not long after he's finished this line, he starts up again with where he began, the word gravity flowing through his lips and soothing over Murdoc like a cool blanket. Murdoc can practically see 2D now, legs swinging over the edge of the roof, eyes drawn upward towards the stars, large fingers twisted around each other comfortingly. He can see the mussed blue locks, the violet-tinted bags that resided underneath each one of his hollow eyes, the dumb K.F.C. tattoo standing proudly against the pale skin of his shoulder. Murdoc allows his eyes to drift close with his imagination, allowing the various colors and shapes to take form behind his eyelids. He's accepted that sleep won't be coming to him anytime soon, so he figures he may as well enjoy a live performance.

Soon though, Murdoc's ever intuitive ears pick up on the familiar creek of a wooden door being pushed open, though he can still hear 2D singing from a spot that still sounds like the roof. Eyebrows hidden by a thick fringe scrunch together in confusion as discolored eyes slide open. Murdoc gets his answer soon enough as 2D pauses his singing for a moment, the sound of small footsteps on the roof echoing across the beach before there's a faint thump as whoever the second individual is takes a seat on the roof with 2D. Knowing that rationally, there's no way Russel could get up there without risking collapsing the entire island, Murdoc derives that it must be young Noodle, woken from her slumber by the sound of her bandmates voice.

"'ello, little love." 2D said softly, his voice warm and full of adoration. Even through the walls of his hut, Murdoc can hear just how fond 2D is of Noodle. Despite never exactly understanding their friendship, Murdoc knew that the pair were quite close, frequently chasing each other up and down the halls of Kong and playing video games. Murdoc's always assumed 2D had taken such a liking to her because she was the only one in the house with the patience to deal with his rather delayed thinking. And as for Noodle, the bassist knows that it's not easy to escape 2D's boyish charm once you've gotten yourself wrapped up in it. He can vouch for that himself.

"Hai." Noodle replied, and Murdoc picked up on the faint thrum of what appeared to be an acoustic guitar. He concluded that Noodle must have enjoyed whatever it was that 2D had been singing, and decided to add her own little piece to it. Murdoc smiled.

The insects thrived in the nighttime hour, cicadas singing their song at full volume and crickets chirping along to the sound. Somewhere along the trees, an owl occasionally chimed in with a low pitched coo of his own tune, piping up only to to have his own say in the music being created around him.

"Gravity-y-y-y-y-yyy on me, never let me die, gently," 2D began to sing again, voice transformed from the high-pitched warble of his speech to the smooth velvet of his song. Murdoc listened, eyes trained on the door before him as his ears absorbed the sound of Noodle's guitar joining in on the tune. And oh, it's so wonderful.

Contrary to her lack of understanding when it came to the English language, Noodle, much like 2D, seemed to have a natural knack for music. The girl barely needed time to hear 2D singing before she was piping in with a fitting guitar track to accompany him, a frown of concentration taking over her childish features. The two were always in perfect harmony.

Feeling the familiar calling of music thrumming through his bones, Murdoc heaved out a sigh, hoisting his sweaty body up from his damp sheets as he forced himself to stand up. Sliding his toes in the pair of pink flip flops 2D had bought for him before the trip, Murdoc snagged his pack of cigarettes from the small table beside his bed, making quick work of lighting one up before he headed out of his hut and into the soft sand that surrounded it.

Looking up, he'd immediately spotted 2D and Noodle on the roof a hut over, Noodle's frame barely visible due to her small stature in comparison to 2D's towering 6'2 height. Both allowed their legs to dangle freely over the edge of the roof, but their concentrations were in opposite directions. 2D looked up at the stars, his black orbs working to take in as much as they possibly could, while Noodle looked down at her guitar, her fingers moving deftly across the various strings as she produced a beautiful melody to accompany 2D's singing.

Coming to stand in front of the hut, Murdoc crossed his arms, his gaze drawn upward at the pair on the roof as he found himself unable to look away from the way they worked together. His cigarette hung loosely between his lips, the smoke drifting in front of his gaze and snapping him back to reality as he broke out of his trance. He listened as 2D trailed off, having been repeating the same few lines he'd first conjured up for the past few minutes or so. His black eyed gaze never faltered from the stars. After a long pause of silence, Murdoc heard Noodle release a soft yawn before she pushed herself into an upright position, all 3'4 of her, and clambered down off of the roof to return back to her own hut. If 2D noticed her departure, he made no move of showing so.

Deciding to join 2D up on the roof just to see what exactly has captured the blue-haired males attention so strongly, Murdoc hoisted himself up along the side, a low grunt leaving his lips from exertion as he clenched his lips down around his cigarette to keep it from falling. Once he finally was standing atop the roof, his body having conjured up a fresh round of sweat due to his efforts, he walked over to the edge where 2D sat, eyes still trained unrelentingly to the vast night sky.

The pair remained silent, both aware of each others presence, yet doing nothing to acknowledge it. Murdoc was the first to break the silence.

"Oi, dullard," he called, the sudden noise causing 2D to whip his head towards Murdoc's waiting gaze. "Y'wanna cigarette?"

2D eyed the outstretched pack wearily, never having been a big fan of Murdoc's 666 brand, but he decided to bite the bullet and take one anyway. Lighting it with ease, 2D allowed the fiery stick to burn between his slightly parted lips, his gaze still locked on Murdoc.

Despite the glare that the bassist was shooting him out of the corner of his red eye, 2D refused to allow himself to look away. The moon was perched on the horizon, seemingly sitting halfway atop the moving surface of the black sea stretched out before them and halfway drowning beneath its waters, displaying a soft white beam and dousing Murdoc's features in such a heavenly glow that 2D couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"You're quite…" 2D trailed off, knowing that despite the bassists seemingly calm demeanor, that he had the potential to erupt like a volcano upon any given misstep on 2D's behalf. "Beautiful. Sitting like this."

He received a grunt in response.

"Always knew you were a ponce." Murdoc murmured in return, though there was no venom in his tone. The blue-haired singer couldn't help but smile, the dopey grin he was oh-so famous for splitting his features as his chin dropped to his chest. Much like a giddy schoolgirl, his heart fluttered within the cavern of his chest. He hadn't felt that strongly towards Murdoc for _ages_.

"Did I wake ya?" 2D suddenly questioned after another lull in conversation, wide black orbs blinking owlishly in Murdoc's direction. The Satanist blinked, glancing over at his singer for a moment before returning his gaze to ever wavering horizon stretched out before them.

"No. Maybe," Murdoc added after a moment, a shrug gracing his bare shoulders. "Doesn't matter much now, though, does it?"

2D thought over this for a moment.

"No. It doesn't."

In a rare moment of bravery and confidence fueled on by the freedom of the night sky before him and the notion that he _too _could be as free as the stars stretched out across it, 2D slid his frame over to Murdoc, moving oh so slightly and slowly as to not alarm the older male onto his intentions. Murdoc, ever perceptive, noticed, but made no move to stop the blue-haired singer.

So 2D didn't stop.

Sliding himself right up against Murdoc's side, close enough where he could feel the drying beads of sweat on the older males torso and the tickle of his sideburns against his own cheek, the singer hesitantly inclined his head _right_, _right_, _right_, until finally, his ear pressed warmly against the meaty top of Murdoc's shoulder. 2D couldn't believe his luck.

Murdoc was never one much for personal contact, in fact, he generally went out of his way to avoid it. 2D learned his lesson against that long ago, after one too many hugs sent the bassists direction left him flat on his ass with stars swimming behind his eyes. Despite how horrifically disappointing it was for 2D (he was a hugger, you see), he had learned to accept it as one of the things that simply made up _Murdoc_.

Before Noodle, before Russel, before Kong, there was just Stu-Pot and Murdoc, struggling to make ends meet and going through each day by doing as little as possible. When Murdoc got in one of his more destructive states, 2D remembered those times, when they both would sit on the roof of Murdoc's apartment complex, nothing surrounding them but the starry night and the smoke emitting from their burning cigarettes. He learned more about his bassist in those lonely months they spent together than he ever would, or ever could, hope to.

"D'ya," 2D began, the memories being so pressing at the forefront of his mind that he couldn't stop the flow of words if he'd wanted to. "D'ya remember when we used to-"

"Yes." Murdoc finished, the word curt and officially cutting off any chance 2D held at diving into a pool of nostalgia and dragging the Satanist down with him. The singer resigned himself, a sigh rumbling through his tight chest and leaving him boneless as he slouched against the side of the bassist. Suddenly, Murdoc was looking at him.

Holding eye contact with Murdoc was much like staring directly into the sun. While Murdoc wasn't quite as blindingly beautiful, he definitely was still _blinding_. The mismatched gaze held confidence and power and demanded respect without even blinking. The bassist knew he was intimidating, and enjoyed using that peculiar trait to his liking. 2D found himself breathless at the sudden eye contact, the moment tense and heavy and all _too much_ for the poor dimwitted singer to take in.

"Muds," not a call, but a plea. A desperate plea for Murdoc to do _something _about the fire he'd just started within the pit of 2D's stomach, the one that bubbled throughout his insides uncomfortably and left his mouth dry as bone. 2D's hand lifted and pressed against the warm skin of Murdoc's jaw, the very bones of his palm trembling within their confines of skin at the _nerve _the singer had suddenly acquired to touch Murdoc in such an intimate way. It caused Murdoc to scramble, his confidence faltering a bit at the singers boldness, though he quickly recovered. He knew that he didn't have the excuse of alcohol or another drug-related high if he were to act on his urges, and he also knew that there was a slim to none chance that 2D would actually allow something to happen _just once_ and leave it alone forever. Murdoc listed everything that could go wrong, then threw the list away.

"So needy," Murdoc complained, shaking his head slightly at the desperation evident in 2D's tone. The singer made no move to refute the accusation, if anything, he only proved it with the tremor that ran through his frame from the very top of his head to the tips of his toes. Having decided that 2D had reached the end of his confidence boost, and was probably not likely to move any further than he'd already done, Murdoc took the honors upon himself, grasped a handful of sky blue strands and tugged.

He was a lost cause before their lips even touched.

Much like the bliss of a started car after a repetitive series of engine revs, Murdoc felt 2D come to life beneath his very palms, the blue-haired singer lurching forward in Murdoc's grasp and pushing as much of himself into the intimate kiss as he could. It seemed like Murdoc could feel 2D's very heart trapped between the place where their lips pressed, ready to fall deep into his mouth the second he allowed himself to part his lips. No matter how much he may have wanted to, Murdoc was unable to refuse himself of the pleasure that the warm press of 2D's tongue against his provided, despite the pain that was sure to come when the singers heart slid inside past his parted lips. And like the greedy man he was, Murdoc swallowed it right up.

The Satanist committed the feel of 2D's nose against his own, the way his large hands held his sides, and the all-encompassing smell of butterscotch to memory before he allowed himself to pull away, not having the strength to open his eyes and face what he'd just done quite yet. The incessant strokes against his jaw finally tugged Murdoc's eyelids apart, mismatched gaze falling on the red-faced singer and his goofy grin.

With a grunt, Murdoc pressed his palm flatly against the surface of 2D's face, and pushed him off the roof and down into the sand.

"Poof."

x

They didn't talk about it, they didn't _do _anything about it, but they snuck glances at each other, quick, fleeting looks that spoke volumes more than their words ever could. Murdoc swore he saw more of 2D's dopey grin in those days following their kiss than he ever would.

Noodle and Russel headed back to Essex four days after the kiss. And, using the excuse of more relaxation time, Murdoc tugged 2D's hand to wrap within his own and held the two limbs fastly behind his back as he waved them off.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Salutations one and all! This chapter is a monster, a monster that is 6,515 words long to be exact. It took me quite a while to spit this one out, mostly because it contains content that I've never written so in depth about if you catch my drift and I wanted to make it as enjoyable as possible without putting you people to sleep. I'll most likely end up rewritting the first chapter one of these days, as I am so endlessly unhappy with it, but today is not that day. I'm not too happy with the end of this chapter, either, but I knew if I wrapped it up the way I wanted to, it'd be around 8,000 words, and no one has time for that. So, without further ado, here you are: chapter three!**

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><p><strong>ma·nia;<strong> an excessive enthusiam or desire; an obsession.

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><p>Lying on his back and feeling unable to move, Murdoc heard, rather than saw, a panicked 2D sprinting over to him and shouting his head off. A dry spray of sand came to hit him in the side of the face as 2D slid down next to him, his large hands carefully cradling the back of the bassists skull in his lap.<p>

"Muds! Muds, can you 'ear me?! Oh, Muds!" 2D wailed pitifully, his high-pitched voice even more annoying in his state of despair. Forcing himself to cough a bit, Murdoc fought the urge to roll his eyes at the worrisome singer. A low groan made its way through Murdoc's lips, his eyes suddenly sliding closed as he felt the full affect of his fall radiating throughout his very bones.

"My bloody _back_." Murdoc complained, eyes squeezing shut.

"'m gonna go get sum help!" 2D proclaimed, carefully setting Murdoc's head back down against the sand before taking off running up and down the beach, waving his scrawny arms over his head and shouting out unintelligible cries for help, despite knowing that there was no one on the beach around them for a solid couple miles. All the pain in the world couldn't have stopped Murdoc from laughing as hard as he did.

Somewhere along his frenzied sprint, 2D managed to trip over red ring buoy lying in the sand, the obstacle sending his thin frame down into the sand, face first. 2D, ever used to dealing with a bit of pain, stood up, brushed himself off, slung the ring buoy around his waist and headed back over to where the bassist lay immobilized in the sand.

"Hold on to dis, Muds!" 2D said, looming down over the Satanist and jutting the ring buoy forward for Murdoc to grasp. 2D's body was blocking the bulk of the sun, sending the rays to frame around his blue-haired head and cast a heavenly glow upon his features. Feeling quite dazed and confused, Murdoc almost mistook 2D for an angel.

"What is this, Baywatch?" Murdoc questioned gruffly, ignoring the momentary spark within his groin when 2D blinked innocently at him. "That only works in water, lackwit. 'sides, I'll be alright, just give me a minute, Satan."

2D immediately scrambled backwards, his long legs tripping over themselves as he worked to give Murdoc enough room to sit up. Understandably, his nerves had got the best of him, and Murdoc watched with mild amusement as his hands fumbled within the pockets of his cutoff denim shorts, tugging out a cigarette and making quick work of lighting it. The red ring buoy had slowly begun slipping down 2D's slim waist, his thin frame unable to keep something that probably weighed as much as he did up. With a determined grunt, 2D pushed his cigarette between his lips and adjusted the ring buoy, his hands slipping beneath it to place on either side of his hips as he smiled triumphantly at Murdoc.

"Don't move, two dents." Murdoc instructed suddenly, the photographer in him tapping on his shoulder and suggesting to him that maybe, just maybe, this would be something he'd want to have, later on.

"Why not?" came the reply, though Murdoc ignored it upon realizing that 2D was following his instructions.

Snatching up the disposable camera on the edge of 2D's towel not too far away, he quickly snapped a shot of the grinning singer, half-finished cigarette and all. Another tightening in his groin following the _click _of the camera alerted Murdoc of just how _long _it'd been since he'd actually had a lay, an honest-to-god _quality _lay, as it seemed the beautiful women in Jamaica didn't take to his more, well, _straightforward _antics very well. Dropping the camera by his side, Murdoc took the time to give 2D the classic elevator eyes, dual-colored orbs roaming freely over his boyish singer. He figured 2D was feminine enough, wide eyes, cute smile and an arse that was pleasantly larger than the rest of his body would suggest it to be. Murdoc had definitely bedded worse; 2D was quite easy on the eyes, actually.

Being as perceptive as he was, Murdoc had picked up on 2D's little schoolgirl crush quite early on in their relationship, though he never had the heart to pick on him for it. In fact, it was quite..._endearing_, for lack of a better term. It made Murdoc feel powerful, having that kind of influence over a pretty boy like 2D. It reminded him just who was in charge around the Gorillaz.

Truthfully, he'd only kissed 2D up on the roof to entertain the singers little crush, remind him that he very much still _did _like Murdoc, no matter if he wanted to or not. Whether he enjoyed it or not was all coincidental. It also probably had to do with just how _miserable _2D seemed half of the time, black eyes cast downward and slumped shoulders, quite a bit like a kicked puppy. No matter how adamantly Murdoc may deny of any existence of a soft spot within him, it's quite obvious when 2D's in one of his downcast moods that there's at least a _sliver _of a heart in that green chest somewhere.

"Ey, two dents," Murdoc began, after deciding that he could use 2D as a warm body and a hole, nothing more, nothing less. Give the singer something to remember when he was alone in his room at night, sweaty and harboring an insistent stiffy with a mind of its own and no porn or birds around to get off on. "Help me back to my room, eh? C'mon then, I'm not too heavy."

2D, ever eager to help, quickly dropped the ring buoy in the sand and came back over to Murdoc's side, his spidery arms sliding under the bassists torso with such care that Murdoc almost felt bad for what he was planning to do. After a couple long, long minutes of slipping and sliding in 2D's strong (weak) hold, the singer was able to wrestle the bassist back to his own hut and onto his bed, flat on his back.

"Christ, Muds, you're heavy!" 2D exclaimed once he'd finally gotten the man in question settled, one large hand reaching up to brush back sweat-soaked blue hair from his forehead as he looked down at the bassist. Murdoc grunted defensively, peering up at 2D with his one red eye cracked open.

"Ey, now, I had to carry your vegetable arse for aaaages, never 'eard me complain, did ya now?" Murdoc retorted, both eyes open now and narrowed in 2D's direction. 2D's face immediately transformed into that apologetic look Murdoc loathed so deeply, his shoulders slouching and his eyes dropping away from Murdoc's gaze. It seemed 2D never realized that he was in no state to hear Murdoc's complaints when the bassist was forced to carry him as he was, quite deeply, in a comatose state.

"I'm sorry, Muds, I di'nt mean it-"

"Now, now, stop all your crying, right? _You're _no longer in a coma, _I _no longer have to carry your sorry arse around everywhere, it's a win-win situation, mate." Murdoc said, successfully cutting off any chance of tears that the dullard could've conjured up. 2D immediately brightened, sunshine taking place where his smile was as he looked down at the bassist.

"You' right! Sorry abou' that, Murdoc." 2D said, his pale cheeks having reddened in embarrassment. The idiot actually had the nerve to look sheepish about what he'd said, despite having not really done anything at all.

"I's alright, dents," Murdoc assured, relaxing back against the pillows and allowing his eyes to slip closed once more. "Why don't you keep Uncle Murdoc company for a bit, yeah? Make sure I don't die in my sleep, and all that," Murdoc knew he was being excessively dramatic, having sustained a few displaced discs in his spine at most, but he also was well aware that 2D wasn't the best on gouging the difference between serious, and, well, anything else.

"Don' say that," 2D chastised, his grin having fallen at the thought of losing his best mate. He hopelessly adored Murdoc, no matter how abusive the bassist was towards him, and was oddly proud in the fact that he quite literally _needed _him. He'd grown so used to being around Murdoc every second of every day, that he found it hard to imagine his natural-born life _without _him. "But alright. W-where should I sit?" 2D questioned, black orbs gazing around the small room nervously as the only other pieces of furniture in the room aside from the twin bed consisted of a nightstand, table lamp, and a mini fridge to hold all of Murdoc's alcoholic beverages.

"Why not next to me, eh? Probably won't bite you, but 'm not gonna make any promises." Murdoc trailed off, eyes squeezing closed once more as he forced his body to shift over a bit to allow 2D a bit more room. The bed certainly wasn't that of his Winnebago, as it lacked in both the style and the firmness that the other bed held, but it would have to work, Murdoc presumed. It was small enough that 2D was forced to have at least _some _skin on skin contact with the bassist, no matter how small he tried to make himself on his limited space of the bed.

For a while, it was silent, neither male knowing quite what to say, but unwilling to fall asleep just the same. Shockingly, 2D, the little surprise, broke the silence first.

"Muds," the bassist fought back a roll of his eyes at the pitiful way 2D said that idiotic nickname he'd come up with, knowing exactly what was about to come out of his singers mouth. "I-I know we 'aven't, well, _talked _about it, but I was jus', jus' wonderin' y'know, the other night, up on the roof, yeah? Well, I dun' know if you remember but we, well, we kinda _kissed_, right? And I was jus' wonderin' if you, maybe could've jus', happened to want to, like, _talk _about it? Becos, well, I don't really know how _serious _you were abou' it, and I guess I jus', well I jus' wanna _know_."

A child could have spoken with more eloquence than 2D did.

"Yes, I _rrrrrremember_, dullard," Murdoc responded, eyes sliding open only to finally release the roll he'd held in for the painfully long duration of 2D's stuttered confession. "Can never let anything just _happen_, can you? Can't say I'm surprised."

2D realized quite quickly that by blabbing about his feelings, he may cause Murdoc to never want to kiss him again, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I take i' back Mud's, I'm sorry I jus'" 2D said, clearly scrambling for words he couldn't string together in his jumbled head for a response that would placate the perpetually fuming bassist. "I quite liked it, is all." Murdoc almost didn't catch the last bit, 2D spoke it so quietly.

"'t was alright, I guess." the Satanist responded nonchalantly, a light shrug gracing his shoulders that sent all kinds of pain down his spine. "Be a peach and get me a cigarette, would you?" The singer immediately tugged his pack out of his jeans alongside his lighter, his eyes half-lidded as he slid the cigarette between the bassists slightly parted lips. His large palms shook where they fumbled with the lighter, finally igniting the end of the cancer stick Murdoc took a deep drag from. "Cheers, dear."

Even with his eyes closed, Murdoc could feel the weight of 2D's gaze on him, all hot and heavy and suffocating in its unadulterated lust. He faintly heard a shaky breath escape the singers lungs as he willed everything within him not to smirk at the sound. It was almost unfair how easy it was for 2D to get all worked up, clearly even easier than Murdoc had initially thought it'd be.

The next minute or so passed in silence, Murdoc allowing the cigarette to hang loosely between his lips when he wasn't tugging a deep pull from it, with 2D's lustful gaze trained on him all the while. There was something so masculine and _arousing _about Murdoc in that state; shirtless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, bangs mused and hanging heavy over his eyes, chest constricting and releasing with every deep drag Murdoc pulled from the burning cigarette hanging between his lips. Somewhere within the empty cavern of 2D's head, he reasoned that he should probably look _away _from the very sight that had him so worked up, as he wasn't sure how well Murdoc would take to discovering 2D's ever growing stiffy popping up against his leg.

"See something you like, 2D?" Murdoc finally mumbled, voice raspy from the cigarette and a short period of disuse and sending all kinds of shivers through 2D's thin frame. Despite seeing that Murdoc's eyes were closed, and he couldn't very well look at him, 2D nodded dumbly, black eyes lowering pitifully to the bed sheets. The bassist let out a grunt of acknowledgement, his natural intuition telling him that 2D had probably agreed in some physical form or another. The sound sent a tingle through 2D's body, and along with it, a wild surge of confidence, as he found himself, horrifyingly, tugging the half-finished cigarette from Murdoc's parted lips and replacing it with a kiss.

Murdoc's eyes flew open, the sheer shock of 2D's confidence burst alarming him in ways he'd never known. He looked ahead to see 2D's endless black orbs squeezed shut, his blue eyebrows having drawn together in concentration. The dullard hesitantly lifted his hands from their place on the bed to rest on either side of Murdoc's shoulders as he planted one on him. Murdoc always knew he'd had pretty good luck, but this was luck at its _prime_.

Unknowingly, 2D had saved Murdoc a painful few minutes of sweet talking and vanilla caresses to get 2D to sleep with him, having skipped all that awful foreplay and gone straight to the point. Not dumb enough to refuse such an opportunity presented to him, Murdoc reacted quickly, one set of long fingers tugging what was left of his cigarette from 2D's grip and chucking it on the floor before he gripped two full handfuls of plush, sky blue clouds and pulled.

2D reacted immediately, the shiver that ran through his frame shaking the very strands of hair that Murdoc gripped so tightly. Ever impatient, the bassist allowed his hands to slide down, down, down 2D's slim torso to grip on his bony hips, giving them an insistent tug to transmit the message of just how badly he wanted 2D perched on his lap. The singer, dimwitted as he may seem, was quick to understand and comply, mile-long legs moving to rest on either side of the bassists strictly shaped hips as 2D slowly lowered his covered groin down against the bulge in Murdoc's jeans. The moan that slipped past 2D's lips was quite pitiful, all high and needy and helpless and so bloody _desperate _that Murdoc felt himself twitch within the confines of his trousers.

"2-dents," Murdoc sucked in another deep, desperate kiss from his singer before continuing. "Listen, I can't move very well right now, so you're going to have to do most of the, _mmm_, _work_, if you catch my drift."

2D most definitely did catch Murdoc's drift.

"Muds, if we do this," 2D started, cheeks flushed and skin hot to the touch where it pressed up against Murdoc's. "Wots gonna happen tomorrow?"

"No, no, don't go thinkin' that far ahead, you'll hurt yourself. Just let it happen, yeah? We'll figure out the mechanics of it later." Murdoc urged, one hand trailing around 2D's slim hips to grip a full handful of round flesh that made up the singers right buttock. He always did enjoy looking at 2D's pert arse, so much more full in comparison to the rest of his thin body. 2D let out a wanton moan, a noise so pact with arousal that Murdoc could tell his earlier worries were clearly forgotten as lust once again took the forefront of his mind.

Seemingly unable to help himself, 2D sat back on Murdoc's thighs, black-eyed gaze heavy as it remained trained on the bassists face, and before Murdoc was truly able to process what exactly was going on, 2D had removed his t-shirt, scrawny chest on full display and scattered with various droppings of blue chest hair as his nipples stood out on an otherwise white cavern, pink, proud and hard. 2D had the chest of a prepubescent girl, so there wasn't really much to _look at _up top, but being able to both see and _feel _the singers growing erection against his own, separated only by a few layers of clothing, _well_. That certainly had him going.

The singer evidently realized that Murdoc wanted more clothing to be removed than just 2D's flimsy top, and he quickly got to work on tugging down the impenetrable fabric that made up Murdoc's jeans. Weighed down with the strain of his lust, Murdoc watched with a rose-tinted gaze as 2D slowly slid his body down Murdoc's torso, eyes trained on his all the while. In the back of the bassists head, he wondered where exactly 2D had learned to become so lewd, so unadulterated in his arousal-driven pursuit to fuck, but the thought was quickly pushed away when all of a sudden, he felt a wet spot on his crotch that he definitely did not cause, thank you very much.

Much like a pleased kitten with a bowl of milk, 2D mewled as he lapped at the bassists intimidatingly large bulge through his jeans, his flat tongue pressing hard against what lie beneath the Satanists trousers. Well, Murdoc certainly hadn't been expecting _that_.

A surprised "Fuck, 2D," slipped from Murdoc's lips, eyebrows rising beneath a thick fringe as he looked down at his singer, currently mouthing around the bassists tip with what was left of his front teeth. Threading his fingers through 2D's full strands, Murdoc gave an impatient tug, letting 2D know that while all that teasing was nice, he was _not in the mood_. 2D, surprisingly, got the message, his long and nimble fingers working down the zipper of the bassists jeans and unknowingly freeing the Satanists erection, which sprouted up to lightly smack him on the cheek.

"No knickers today, eh Muds?" 2D asked, accompanied with a shaky laugh that obviously displayed that his confidence had clearly been shaken as he eyed Murdoc's length warily.

"Never know when opportunity calls," Murdoc responded flippantly, eyes still trained on 2D's reddened face as he watched his singer take in the height of his arousal. A flash of heat flooded his gut, the awe-struck look on his singers face at the sight of his cock, _his_, causing something within him to swell up to a new level of pride within the bassist that he'd never experienced before. "Get on with it, will you? Quit stallin'."

Releasing one hand from the death grip 2D had on the waistline of Murdoc's jeans, the singer blinked owlishly up at his best mate, his closest comrade, his _savior_. And he got on with it.

2D leaned forward hesitantly, forcing his wide black orbs to remain open, to take in every reaction he could pull out of Murdoc and commit it all to the deepest pits of his memory bank. The singer wrapped his lips around the head of Murdoc's erection, hollowing out his cheeks tentatively as his tongue pressed forward to snag a taste of the foreign complexity of his best mates cock in his mouth. Despite Murdoc's eyebrows being deeply masked by the impenetrable fringe of hair that hung over them, 2D could see his mates face contorted in pleasure, mismatched eyes narrowed and pulled together as the bassists grip in his hair tightened. Fueled on by the mostly encouraging reaction he'd derived from Murdoc, 2D continued on, allowing his lips to slide lower, lower, lower down on Murdoc's length before he felt the tip bump against his tonsils, causing him to gag with a start as his whole body jerked on the bed. Murdoc, however, refused to let up.

"C'mon pet, you can take it," he assured, baritone voice low and rough and sending all kinds of shivers down 2D's spine. A gathering of tears had come together on the singers lower lid, glistening like snowflakes in the wintertime and shooting a fresh wave of arousal through the bassist. "Jus' relax a bit, there you go."

Slowly but surely, 2D's tense frame began to relax, his hands loosening from the sudden grip they'd taken on Murdoc's strictly shaped hips when he felt himself begin to gag. Murdoc eased 2D's head downward once more with a firm grip in his blue strands, unrelenting in his pursuit to get 2D to take him all the way down his pretty little throat, tears or not. Feeling the strain of keeping his gaze on Murdoc's face, 2D dropped his black eyes closed, allowing his eyelids to clench together as he forced himself to make room for Murdoc's cock down his throat, bypassing his tonsils as he fought to repress his gag reflex. Saliva and tears ran freely down 2D's face, and 2D felt himself flush all over with the _shame _of it all; he knew damn well exactly how much of a mess he probably looked in that moment, having seen girls go through the very same routine with him as he was going through with Murdoc. If anything, though, Murdoc seemed to get even harder at the sight before him, 2D all helpless and flushed and so bloody _vulnerable _that Murdoc had to tear his eyes away from the sight, throw his head back and call out to Satan so he wouldn't shoot off right then and there.

A noise of surprise bumbled from 2D's lips at the foreign feeling of Murdoc buried deep within his throat, the sensation so strange and alien and arousing at the same time. 2D had begun to get light headed at the overflow of emotions running through him. The singer timidly allowed the muscles of his throat to constrict and release around Murdoc's stiff length, gaining quite a loud noise of approval from the bassist as he did so. Forcing his face all the way down, 2D found his lips pressed flush against the skin and spatterings of hair around Murdoc's groin, his nose deeply inhaling the manly musk that resided there. Even his crotch smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and bad decisions. 2D couldn't get enough of it.

"Fuck, two dents, who taught you to do that, eh?" Murdoc grumbled, morbidly curious and unbearably aroused at the same time. A helpless noise rumbled from 2D's throat that travelled all throughout Murdoc's cock, the bassist groaning in inescapable pleasure as it ran through him. "Alright, alright, come up, come here." Murdoc insisted, feeling the all too familiar tightening in his abdomen that signaled a release he wasn't ready to allow just yet. 2D listened obediently, dragging his mouth up and off of Murdoc, a distressed cough following the action as he lifted one hand up to rub at his throat. It felt raw, like he'd been screaming for hours on end, but 2D reveled in the tinge of pain it brought, a reminder of what exactly he'd been doing with Murdoc, something he could've only hoped for in his wildest dreams.

Murdoc, ever impatient, gripped the blue-haired singers cheeks and tugged his reddened face up towards his own for a passionate kiss, the Satanists dual-colored eyes squeezing shut as he pressed as much of his appreciation into the embrace as he could. 2D could only whimper at the intensity that Murdoc was sending his way, his large palms shaking where they reached up to grip the bassists hips and scratch lightly with blunt fingernails. Another grasping hand at his arse reminded 2D that he was still very much clothed, his jeans digging painfully into his hips where they pressed against Murdoc's torso. The singer could only lie back and watch with mild amusement and awe as Murdoc flipped him onto his back, making such quick work of removing his skinny jeans that, somehow, still managed to remain loose on his thin frame that made 2D's head spin a bit.

Finally freed of the captivating fabric that had previously enclosed his slim legs, the singer let out a euphoric sigh, his back arching up and off of the bed as he tossed his spidery arms loosely around the shoulders of his savior, tugging down his warm frame to press as close against his own as he could manage. It was more intimate than Murdoc was used to, and despite his first instinct being to shake 2D _off _of him, he fought and suppressed it with all his might, instead channeling his frustrations into the bone-crushing grip he had on the singers slim hips. He was sure he'd leave bruises, but judging by the noise that had escaped 2D's lips, the singer wouldn't mind. The bassist pulled back from the kiss he'd had 2D captured in to admire his handiwork; 2D was positively _glowing_, with his skin flushed from head to toe, his wide black eyes glistening with arousal and adoration and lips parted and plump and shimmering with a combination of their saliva. Yeah, he'd save the whole foreplay ordeal for another time, then.

Alive with sensation and a stiffy harder than rock, Murdoc found himself no longer immobile from pain, though it still hung around like a storm cloud, just out of his peripheral, but there none the less. The feline crouch he had over 2D's sprawled out body would have to be saved for another time, he mused, as his back was protesting, and quite loudly. Slinking off of the singer with a groan that conveyed the depths of his displeasure, Murdoc collapsed on the space next to 2D, skin moist with the effort of his exertions as he breathed out a sigh.

"Sorry, mate, you'll have to take the reigns from here," Murdoc apologized, though he did so in the most uninterested tone he could muster up, his dual-colored gaze trained on the ceiling above him as his lungs worked to breath in as much oxygen as they could. "If you're looking for a, well, _smooth sailing_, you'll have to head over in my bag." Confusion overtook the dimwitted singers features, his chest still heaving from their kiss, before he finally was able to derive from Murdoc's metaphor what he was really trying to say. Scrambling off of the bed at an admirable speed, naked glistening frame and all, 2D crouched down before Murdoc's suitcase, his erection bouncing hard and insistent between his legs as he finally tugged out the small, travel sized bottle of lubricant that 2D couldn't help but wonder the origin of. Dismissing the thought from his mind before it could grow and develop into an idea that would surely prevent him from being able to focus on the task at hand, 2D clambered back over to the bed, his mile-long legs straddling the bassists strictly shaped hips as he took ahold of the other males erection within his large, slicked palm. A low grunt resonated throughout Murdoc's chest, his discolored eyes flitting back and forth between the hazy expression on 2D's face and the way he looked gripped within the singers hand. Once 2D had slickened him up to what he saw fit, the singer chucked the bottle somewhere within Murdoc's room, a faint clatter resonating throughout the area as it met the wooden floor of the hut. Despite the overpowering lust that overtook most of 2D's features, Murdoc could still see a trace of nervousness; 2D had been gnawing down on his lower lip, something he only did when his anxiety was creeping up his spine insistently.

"Relax, Tusspot, or you'll make this a lot harder than it needs to be," Murdoc insisted, thumbs massaging invisible circles onto the smooth skin where his palms gripped the singers slim hips. 2D shivered at the notion, tugging at his lower lip with what was left of his front teeth before releasing the abused flesh altogether. With a nod of uncertainty, 2D held Murdoc tightly within his palm, his hips slowly lowering down as his body began to work around the sudden intrusion that he was gripping oh so hard. A sharp gasp escaped 2D's lips, paired with a whimper so pitiful that Murdoc almost felt bad for the overwhelmed singer.

"Oh no, Muds, I-I _can'_" 2D whined, though he made no move to slide off of the half of Murdoc's erection that was already pressed deeply inside of him. There was the familiar twist of discomfort on the singers face as he, despite his words, removed his hand where it was still wrapped around Murdoc, and cautiously worked his hips in a manner that had Murdoc's eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"You're taking it _mighty _fine, dents, don't worry," Murdoc insisted, a bit of his own exhaustion leaking into his breathless tone as he looked up at his singer, halfway impaled on his own length and flushed from head to toe. The sight was downright pornographic. "Don't stop, though."

Seemingly fueled by the snippet of appreciation, 2D nodded, dug his fingernails into the sides of the bassists torso, and dropped his hips down until they sat flush against Murdoc's own. A noise so packed with both pain and euphoria resonated throughout the room, having crawled its way up from the depths of the singers lungs and spewed out across Murdoc like a ray of sun. The grip Murdoc had on the bluenette's hips tightened tenfold. If 2D had been reddened before, he was absolutely scarlet now, his cheeks such a vibrant shade of red that he was practically _burning _with it. For a while, 2D just sat there, long legs twisted at his sides, fingers nestled within the bassists ribcage, with his hips pressed flush against Murdoc's. Then, timidly, the singer lifted his bony hips, teeth biting down on his lower lip once more, before he dropped them back where they began.

The singer pushed out a choked noise, one that made Murdoc's blood run hot with the desperation of it. Unable to keep still with such a visage before him, the bassist lifted his hands from 2D's hips, curling them around the singers waist to grip at his arse and tug him further down on his own erection once more, his tongue spilling out from between his thin lips to flick suggestively in 2D's direction. The singer in question was far too out of it to notice, his black orbs half-lidded and aimed at the ceiling as his skin broke out in a light sweat, his body now moving with ease up and down against Murdoc's as he repetitively impaled himself on his best mate. The gasping noises he released had Murdoc's head in a floozy, his body so overheated and overstimulated he thought he might have a heart attack, then and there. Despite the determination on the singers face, he was moving _much _too slow for the bassist, an issue he planned to resolve quickly, if he wanted to last another minute, that is.

"Hop off it, dents, I wanna try something," Murdoc announced, voice strained and raspy and rough and all the things 2D loved so very much. Through his haze of lust, 2D dully comprehended the other males words, a whine of disapproval escaping from his parted lips before he unhappily complied. Lifting himself up and off of Murdoc's hips, he found himself blushing all over again at the distinct _pop _that resonated throughout the small room as Murdoc slid out of him. The bassist only grinned lecherously, licking his serpent's tongue over his pointed teeth before he forced himself to sit up, despite the cracking noises his back gave off in the process. 2D had half a mind to reprimand Murdoc for moving so carelessly after enduring such an injury, but it was just that: a half. "Hands and knees, love," the singer hastily obeyed, pushing the tinge of pain he felt in his nether regions to the back of his mind as he did so. The position left him so vulnerable, so open and exposed to the bassists wondering gaze that he practically felt nauseous with it, but all the protest he provided was the fresh wave of redness that darkened his features.

He felt, rather than saw, Murdoc slink up behind him, heavy hands having found a home once again on the singers slim hips as the bassist tugged them back against his own. Murdoc ground his heavy erection slowly against 2D's parted cheeks, relishing in the choked noise of desperation that slid out from the singers lips.

Pumped full with morbid curiosity, 2D couldn't help but wonder, was _this _why Murdoc could pull birds so easily? Did they receive the same thrill 2D felt when he was lying beneath Murdoc, all sweaty and fucked out of very mind? Did they enjoy basking in the shame and _humiliation _of it all quite like 2D did?

The singer wasn't left much time to ponder after that, as Murdoc, quite abruptly, shoved himself back inside the singer to the hilt and released a moan so filthy 2D felt his skin blacken with the sin of it. 2D didn't have time to release his own noise of approval, as Murdoc started the pace off fast and rough, his hips bumping up against the singers with enough force to cause his body to rock back and forth with the motion of it all. 2D was left gasping for air, his body and mind so overstimulated that for a second, when the all-too familiar tightening of his throat came around, he feared he may actually cry in front of the bassist. Not from pain, not from discomfort, but from the all-encompassing _pleasure _Murdoc was sending his way; the bassist had never been one to hold back, and it seemed that this trait held true in the bedroom as well.

Unable to help himself, 2D shoved what was left of his top teeth into his bottom lip to try and muffle at least _some _of his noises, he sounded like a bloody street whore the way he was crying out and writhing beneath Murdoc. The bassist was having none of that, it seemed, as 2D felt the older man abruptly grab his jaw in a death grip that forced 2D to released his abused bottom lip from the confines of his teeth. "I wanna hear you, pet, don't hold back from me," Oh, bugger. Like he wasn't overstimulated enough by the bassists words, he had to go and shove himself right up against the younger males prostate, causing 2D to sob out a cry in response as he gripped himself in a tight, shaky fist, breathed in deeply, and came all over the sheets below him, tipping over the edge, headfirst. "Oh, dents," Murdoc couldn't help but follow the frail man beneath him over the edge, his nails digging into the supple flesh of his hips as he came inside him with a low, raspy sound that caused 2D to weakly spurt out what was left of the fluids inside him.

Pain once again crept its way up Murdoc's spine, the adrenaline thrill of the rush now all but gone as he collapsed weakly against the bed once more. He felt, rather than saw, 2D's arms and legs give out below him, his body collapsing in a puddle of his own waste. A noise of disapproval rang through the singers lungs, but it seemed he was far too tired to move himself away from the mess that lay beneath him. What felt like hours was merely only a few minutes, spent with the bassist and singer working to function their lungs properly once more, hearts insistently pumping in their throats. To Murdoc's surprise, 2D was the first to speak.

"We've got to fly back tom'row," 2D mumbled lazily into the pillow his face was mashed into, his back rising and falling steadily now, though his skin still shone with a sheen of sweat that glistened like a thousand diamonds. Murdoc grunted in return, eyes shut as his face twisted up into a grimace.

"You worry so much about the future, dents," Murdoc chastised, hand splaying out to the side of him to tug out two cigarettes as he made quick work of lighting them and passing one over to his exhausted singer. "We'll be on the bloody plane."

"I know, I know," 2D quickly replied, fingers gratefully wrapping around the cigarette Murdoc offered to him as he took a deep drag before continuing. "I's jus' so soon, is all. Like, I don' wanna leave, y'know? We've got it so..._good_ 'ere. _We're _good 'ere."

It was a surprisingly intelligent comment from a singer who was half out of his mind with exhaustion and frequently doped up on painkillers. Murdoc's eyebrows rose beneath his fringe, his body having rolled over onto it's side to look closely at 2D's relaxed features. His cigarette hung all but forgotten between his pointed teeth, and just when he had conjured up the idea of smacking the singer upside the head to shake off the dazed look he had in his black orbs, 2D smiled at him and illuminated the room. He'd hit him later, he told himself, as he instead strung an arm around the singers waist, chucked the cigarette from his mouth away, and breathed in a slow, warm, lazy kiss.


End file.
